"ted to penetrate into the mysteries of the Most High, it is clearly our "bounden duty not to forego, through indolence or misconception, "any investigation of nature's laws to which our comprehension is "equal. To me it appears, that we have not only a direct inter"est in pursuing phrenological inquiries, from the advantages to "which, in common with all natural truths, they necessarily lead, "but that we are under a positive obligation to scrutinize that which "our Maker, by enduing us with faculties suited to the investiga"tion, not only permits but enjoins us to explore."

This little work proceeds from the press of Bath, and from the intelligence, modesty, and purity of moral sentiment employed in it, we have no doubt that it will produce a beneficial effect.

ARTICLE IV.

ON THE FACULTY OF CONCENTRATIVENESS.

To the Editor of the Phrenological Journal.

SIR, I have derived much amusement, and, I may add with truth, instruction, from the study of Phrenology; and although with much that has been said in illustration of the science I do not wholly agree, it yet appears to me that a mass of substantial facts and legitimate inferences has been accumulated in support of its leading principles, which is very unlikely to be overthrown by any future counter-experience. As Phrenology makes every one who studies it, by a sort of necessity, an examiner of nature, the following observations have occurred to me, from time to time, with reference to one of the faculties; and they are now submitted, with deference to your editorial judgment and to the opinions of more practised observers, for the use of your Journal.

"If we consider the human mind," says Mr Hume in his Dissertation on the Passions, "we shall observe that, with regard to the "passions, it is not like a wind-instrument of music, which, in run"ning over all the notes, immediately loses the sound when the "breath ceases; but rather resembles a string-instrument, where, "after each stroke, the vibrations still retain some sound, which

"gradually and insensibly decays." From this he infers, that when an object, which occasions a variety of emotions, is presented to the mind, each impulse will not produce a clear and distinct note of passion, but the one passion will always be mixed and confounded with the other. In his observations on the laws of the suggesting principle, Dr Thomas Brown remarks the same fact, of permanence or co-existence, as taking place in our mental conceptions in general, when associated with the interest of any mental emotion. "I look at a volume on I my table; it recalls to me the friend from whom I received it,"the remembrance of him suggests to me the conception of his fa"mily,—of an evening which I spent with them, and of various "subjects of our conversation. Yet the conception of my friend "may continue, mingled indeed with various conceptions, as they "rise successively, but still co-existing with them." Dr Brown proceeds, with the felicity and ingenuity which so generally distinguish his writings, to explain how this co-existence of ideas gives us the capacity of prosecuting with steadiness a mental design or plan of thought. His words cannot be abridged without doing injustice to his meaning. "When we sit "down," he says, "to study a particular subject, we must have a "certain conception, though probably a dim and shadowy one, of "the subject itself. To study it, however, is not to have that con"ception alone, but to have successively various conceptions, its re"lations to which we endeavour to trace. The conception of our particular subject, therefore, must, in the very first stage of our progress, suggest some other conception. But this second sugges"tion, if it alone were present, having various relations of its own, as well as its relation to the subject which suggested it, would "probably excite a third conception, which had no reference to the "original subject,-and this third a fourth,—and thus a whole se"ries, all equally unrelated to the subject which we wish to study. "It would hence seem impossible to think of the same subject even "for a single minute. Yet we know that the fact is very different, "and that we often occupy whole hours in this manner, without any remarkable deviation from our original design. Innumerable "conceptions, indeed, arise during this time, but all more or less intimately related to the subject, by the continued conception of which "they have every appearance of being suggested; and if it be allow"ed that the conception of a particular subject both suggests trains "of conceptions, and continues to exist together with the concep

"

"

* Lectures, vol. II. p. 303.

"tions which it has suggested, every thing for which I contend in "the present case is implied in the admission."

I apprehend that this principle suggests the true metaphysical theory of that mental power which has been distinguished in the language of the Scots Phrenologists by the term Concentrativeness. If we conceive that the simple function. of this faculty is to give duration or fixity to whatever conceptions or emotions occupy the mind, the various operations ascribed to Concentrativeness will flow from that function as from an elementary principle. In Mr Combe's most interesting work lately published, the "primitive feeling" which gives rise to the phenomena of Concentrativeness is said to be, "the tendency to concentrate the mind within itself, and to "direct its powers in a combined effort to one object." This, however, may be considered rather as a description of the operation of the power, than a statement of the primary element to which its phenomena may be traced. If we attend to what passes in our minds when we endeavour to concentrate our thoughts upon a subject, we shall find that we do not attempt any direct coercion on our different faculties, but simply endeavour to seize upon the object of thought, and keep it steadily before the mind. We are all occasionally conscious of ineffectual efforts of attention; if we examine what we do on such occasions, we shall find that it consists in an attempt to think of some subject which is, for the moment, less attractive than some other objects which are the causes of distraction. An effective concentration of the faculties takes place only when the original leading conceptions are of themselves powerful and permanent; and the concentration will be found, consequently, to be most perfect when there is least effort to produce it. We are sensible of this on occasions which may be either painful or pleasant, when a subject, associated with strong emotion, has taken possession of the mind; and when we find ourselves incapable of banishing from our

System of Phrenology. 1825.

thoughts, even though very desirous of doing so, the train of conceptions which has so strongly concentrated our powers upon itself, and continues to keep them in a state of sustained and perhaps distressing activity. We speak of our minds having the command of our ideas. This may be correct enough in popular language; but, philosophically speaking, our ideas command our minds. And even in those cases which appear most like exceptions to this principle, it will be found, on examination, that it is merely one class of ideas assuming the predominance over another. When we voluntarily change our train of thought, or endeavour to concentrate our minds upon a subject, the process is one in which, under an impression of the necessity or expediency of attending to the particular subject, we pass from the trains of irrelevant ideas, and endeavour to reach, by the aid of our associations, the subject which we wish to study. Almost every individual is capable of this single effort, and he may repeat it again. But that uninterrupted sustaining of the attention so given, which constitutes Concentrativeness, depends on a quality distinct from efforts of attention,-a quality most strongly marked where least effort is necessary,-and that is simply the property which this mental power possesses of giving continuance to thoughts and feelings when they have sprung up in the mind. This property appears to exist in different degrees in different minds; to which, of course, the diversity in the manifestations of Concentrativeness, with which we are so often presented, is to be mainly attributed.

It is not difficult to see in what way this property of permanence operates in producing the various peculiarities of a concentrative turn of mind. It is a law of thought which all systems of mental philosophy recognise, although they may explain it differently, that a conception or feeling, when present to the mind, naturally acts in calling up other conceptions and feelings of the same class. Ideas of Causality call forth other ideas of Causality; emotions of Benevolence or Destructiveness are followed by trains of conceptions associ

ated by sympathy with the previous mental state. If then, one predominating conception or feeling be held before the mind by the force of a strong Concentrativeness, the mental action just described will of necessity be greatly enhanced. The secondary conceptions will re-act upon the original, increasing the intensity of thought and feeling, and adding to the excitement of the mind. A more extensive range of ideas, all bearing the same kindred character, will thus be brought into view; and while the intellect, seizing from a distance the point to be pursued, arranges its materials in such a plan as is best adapted to attain it, it is at the same time prepared for executing the design with greater strength of conception, or, as the nature of the subject may require, with a tone of more powerful emotion. The effect of this concentration naturally extends to the active powers in cases where their co-operation is necessary; the associated volitions flow more readily along with the mental train, and participate in the harmony of all the other faculties.

In perfect consistency with this view, we find that any circumstance which gives permanence to an emotion independently of Concentrativeness, produces the same effect. The continued presence of a cause of provocation will excite Destructiveness to a greater excess of passion. Large Cautiousness, along with deficient Hope, will give a permanent tinge to all the mental feelings; and, when excited by disease, may so completely fill the mind with their gloomy suggestions as to render it inaccessible to every idea of a brighter complexion. Every sentiment, whatever its character may be, casts its own peculiar light over the mental prospects; and the objects beheld reflect that light alone to the mind, whether it be the splendour of our more bright and joyous feelings, or the fiercer glow of the destructive passions, or the sombre illumination of a more melancholy mood.

It occurs to me that the amount of this power, in the composition of intellectual character, has not been fully estimated by Phrenologists. Independently of Phrenology altogether,